What Lies Beneath
by freiheitfuehlen
Summary: Here's what happened: I said: "Gimme a sentence and I'll write you a story."  First piece is set after season 5! SPOILER
1. Rose

**Rose**

"_There is no line when it comes to being with the one you love."_

The silence, Fiona thought, should have bothered her more, sinking her in a sea of regrets. Surprisingly though, Fiona was able to shrug the feeling of loneliness off like an undesired coat; left in the corner to collect dust.

The omnipresent anger – born in an act of supposed deception, left Fiona with a nagging feeling of guilt; she felt guilty for her own failings in stopping the man who had given her a second chance, albeit double-edged, only to be left with an inevitable, heart-breaking sacrifice Michael was unwilling to make.

The disdain and disgust in people's eyes – federal agents, prison wards or even secretaries, was something Fiona understood; after all she had once acted on exactly those feelings. It only intensified when all Fiona did – while being interrogated, was shrugging and keeping quiet.

The truth was a luxury, Fiona admonished herself in moments of doubt, she could not grant herself with; or anyone else for that matter.

Michael had said it himself, "There is no line when it comes to being with the one you love."

Or in Fiona's case, _protecting_ the one you love meant playing the role of a murdering enemy of the state – states she corrected herself, then so be it.

The metal of the handcuffs around Fiona's wrists were unusually cold and the orange fabric covering her - apparently - frail body, was scratching her skin. The cell the government held her in, was small and freezing. She sat crossed-legged on a thin blanket with her hands folded in her lap. Waiting for the final decision on whether she would be deported and sent to spend the rest of her life in federal prison in England – at least then she did not have to pretend to be American anymore she joked sarcastically with a hint of melancholy accompanying this train of thoughts.

The door opened and a tall, athletically built man in a guard's uniform entered the holding cell.

"Time to go, Miss Glennane," He mumbled gruffly, gesturing with his hands in a way that was supposed to tell her to get up.

When she walked past the guard, taking in his scent – a mixture of Scotch and cigarette smoke, she felt a wave of nausea taking over, leaving her stunned and unable to shake off a thought that had surfaced unconsciously, albeit torturing.

_I'll never smell the scent of smoke and explosives on his skin and I'll never kiss away the taste of beer and yoghurt – blueberry, from his lips._

She sighed, closed her eyes to stop the tears from running down her cheeks and hoped that Michael's love for her was strong enough to forgive her – to forget about her.

The end.


	2. Bogey

**Bogey**

"_Everything we value has been forged into our love and everything is subject to compromise. Compromising your values is not an option."_

Michael was unable, partly unwilling, to accept her refusal - her obvious lack of faith, in seeing this through. He did not understand how she could carelessly, or so he thought, abandon everything they had fought for; everything he had fought for, mostly with himself.

"Why won't you let me do this? Why can't you understand that I can't give up, that I can't lose you again?"

Michael pleaded, hoped that he could use her love for him to guilt her into compromising her believes; an act of betrayal – if only to his integrity. But a sacrifice, Michael knew, he was forced to make by the impending loss of the only woman, other than his mother, he had ever truly loved and trusted.

"Everything we value has been forged into love and everything is subject to compromise. Compromising your values is not an option."

Fiona was enraged; with Michael who refused to acknowledge that there was never going to be an end to this nasty partnership with Anson, and partly with herself for still wanting – even needing to be around him, to be with him. Her inability to fight herself on this matter was slowly dissolving her strength and Fiona could not allow herself the comfort of falling back into his arms. After all they had done together, achieved together here in Miami. The least she could do was spare innocent bystanders the pain of being wrongly accused of treason when they had done nothing but serving their country with the utmost loyalty.

If Michael's conscience was not clouded by love and fear, Fiona knew, he would accept that there was no other way than turning herself in. Someone had to do the right thing and knowing that Michael was unwilling to make this sacrifice she was forced to act, even if it meant being wrongly accused of murder.

Michael reached for her arm and hugged her tightly against his chest, breathing in her unique scent of explosives and jasmine. He felt her relaxing in his embrace, breathing in deeply Michael closed the handcuffs around her wrists and kissed the side of her head chastely before he stepped back.

"I can't you lose you. I'm sorry Fiona," he whispered and headed out the door.

Fiona cried out his name many times, in desperation and disbelief, and the sound of her voice let shivers run down Michael back. As he descended the stairs briskly Michael banned the feeling of betrayal – both to her and himself, from his mind and went to do the one thing he was born to do; protecting the ones he loved at all means necessary.

The end.


End file.
